Old Long Since
by StatsGrandma57
Summary: Han and Leia have been married for 60 years. Han contemplates his life and feels very, very blessed. Still more fluff.


OLD LONG SINCE

('old long since' is the translation of Auld Lang Syne).

Han:

I'm 93 years old.

I still have trouble believing I got this old. I was certain that I'd have long been scattered into stardust.

I know I'm slowing down. I sleep a lot more than I used to. I have an entire catalog of orthopedic problems. I've even got a few replacement joints. There should really be a warranty on parts. They should last as long as you do.

I'm not complaining. My life's been amazing, in no small part because of the incredible woman I married 60 years ago. She moves a lot more slowly these days as well, but her intelligent brown eyes sparkle with life as they did when she was 23. She is the most beautiful woman in the universe. Always has been, always will be.

She's holding Jacen and Tenel Ka's grandchild, our great grandchild, a beautiful little angel of a girl named Jaina Tash. We call her JT to distinguish her from my daughter.

"Daddy, want an ale?" Jaina, my daughter, asks me.

"You know I do," I tell her. I watch her as she moves towards the chiller; she is 58 years old now, a woman of dignity and deep experience. But I still see her as my baby girl, and remember the first time I held that little bundle wrapped in pink. I'm sentimental about all my kids, but Jaina's been Daddy's Girl since the moment she entered the galaxy. I remember walking her down the aisle, feeling as if I was going to lose my baby forever.

I didn't. She hands me an ice cold ale and leans over to kiss my forehead. I watch as she joins up with Tenel Ka, Breana and Lysandra, all of them my daughters in law. Breana is the chief cook and bottle washer for this particular course of the feast that we'll be eating later. I used to do a lot of the cooking but at the tender age of 85 I hung up my hot mitts. Leia retired from it that same year, but she still oversees the operation. She's laughing with our grandkids right now. We've got ten of 'em. Another of the embarrassment of riches we've been fortunate to enjoy.

"Hey there, Flyboy," she says, taking my hand as she sits down next to me. She leans her head on my shoulder the way she did one night long ago, in the forest on Yavin 4, when we were given the dubious honor of being made part of the Ewok tribe. It was just a few days before the war ended and I asked her to marry me.

I'm so glad she said yes.

We've had the most incredible life together. Some of it's been hideously painful and difficult. Much of it has been routine. But there's always been an undercurrent of joy in our lives. Sometimes it's buried down deep, but it surfaces eventually, and it goes into light speed at Winter Fete.

Right now Leia is somber and quiet. We buried Luke six months earlier; he was teaching at the Praxium on Yavin 4 and fell down on the job. I know she misses him. It's been hard for her this year. Siblings have bonds, but twins, it's a whole other level. I don't say anything, but slip my arm over hers. She knows that I know that she's feeling the loss big time today. I think the main reason Luke is gone is because Mara died nine months before he did; you could see the life being sucked out of him.

I know that if Leia goes first, I won't be long. But I suspect it's going to be the other way around. I don't think I could bear losing her first.

Luke and Mara's kids, Ben and Lilith, are here with us, too, along with their kids. I know it's gotta be hard on 'em at some level. They took losing Mara hard, and then Luke not too long after. But they're smiling and laughing with their cousins and harassing their own kids and their nieces and nephews. One thing has been true of our home for as many years as it's been: we're loud.

I think back on friends I've had over the years. Most of them are gone or ailing badly. Chewie's still well, but he's on Kashyyyk for the season. He'll be back once the festivities are over. He still considers his life debt to me to be his highest priority, but he's willing to give more time to his family. He's also a grandfather and loves the second generation like crazy.

I'd never admit to it publicly, but I miss Lando and the rest of my partners in crime (well, okay, we were criminals before the Republican government was established, but we still thought of ourselves as criminals. We always were hopeless romantics).

It'd be easy to be maudlin about those gone, but then, I'd miss all the good stuff in front of me, behind me, and at my side. And there's plenty of that.

Leia doesn't stay maudlin long; there's kids and grandkids all around, and soon, she's laughing right along with them, kidding each other, embracing them, knowing what's important in life and celebrating it.

This might be my last Winter Fete, but I feel no sadness. I've had a life beyond whatever I could imagine - and I could imagine a lot. Most surprising is all the love Leia and I have shared for six decades. I still marvel at how fortunate I am. Nothing I ever have done in my life makes me feel worthy of this; I've been so far beyond lucky.

Holding my great granddaughter, I realize that my life will live on, forever, because there are people I love who will remember me.

It all began with a kiss in the circuitry bay.


End file.
